


Dinner Conversation

by trascendenza



Category: Jake 2.0
Genre: Character of Color, F/F, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-08
Updated: 2007-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-07 13:59:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In vino, veritas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Conversation

"I…" Fran giggled, sloshing the wine around in her glass. "I have kind of a low tolerance, did I mention that?" Her cheeks glowed a warm rosy color.

Diane leaned forward on the table, setting both her elbows on it and cupping her hands around her mouth. "Me too," she said in an exaggerated whisper that was overly conspicuous. Her cheeks were intensely flushed.

"Uh-oh." Fran dipped her index finger into the golden-white liquid. "What should we do?"

"Umm," Diane stammered, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Do? We have to do something?"

"Well, you're my boss. Shouldn't you make sure I get home okay?" Fran slowly licked her finger off, tongue darting out over the tip.

"I—I—" Diane stared at Fran's lips, biting her own, "do you think I should?"

"Yeah," Fran said, reaching across their forgotten pasta dishes, putting her hand over Diane's wrist.

"Yeah," Diane repeated quietly, nodding in the flickering candlelight.

*

The alcohol wore off by the time they got to Fran's apartment, but the heat didn't, stoked by giggling and wrestling in the back of the taxi, their fingers interlacing when they stopped laughing and broke eye contact, foreheads brushing and feet clumsily treading as they angled their knees to face each other.

In fact, by the time Fran had gotten her door open (swearing viciously under her breath because it was _hard_ to slide a key in with Diane breathing in her ear and nipping at her neck), they were fairly intoxicated off themselves, the extended foreplay of teasing over dinner finally coming to fruition. Their sentences degenerated into exhaled fragments of wanting, shedding their clothes in a trail to Fran's bedroom, and when they landed on the fluffy covers, they didn't even bother talking, mouths fitting together (and sliding down, down, _oh, oh, oh my God, yes_) and saying everything they needed to.

*

"Mmmm," Fran hummed, snuggling her face into the crook of Diane's neck the next morning, "you're finally up."

"Wine makes me sleepy," Diane said sheepishly, slinging her leg over Fran's hip. "Were you up long?"

"Just long enough to start thinking about an encore performance." She kissed Diane's neck to illustrate exactly what sort of performance she meant.

Diane blushed, but angled her hips a bit closer to Fran's. "I'm so glad you—well, you know. Did that."

"Did what?" Fran asked, nibbling at Diane's ear.

"You know—um. Hit on me?"

Fran suddenly sat up, dislodging Diane from the tentative exploration her fingers had been going on. "You're joking, right?"

Diane blinked rapidly, looking somewhat blind without her glasses on. "Um, no? Why would I be joking?"

Fran laughed. "Because I've been hitting on you for _months._ It took you getting drunk to notice?" She half-smiled, self-deprecating. "And that Riesling, well, it kinda went to my head."

"Really?" Diane groaned, putting her hands on her forehead and burying her head in the pillow. "I've had a crush on you since I interviewed you," came her stifled disclosure.

"Mmmm." Fran leaned down again, firmly planting her thigh between Diane's, pulling Diane's hands away and kissing her forehead. "We'll have to go back and give that waiter a big tip some time, won't we?"

"Or we could get take-out and spend the day in bed," Diane said, smiling shyly.

"I like the way you think."

And take-out it was, complete with a seventy percent tip for the delivery boy who gawked at them both wrapped in Fran's bedsheet when they answered the door, laughing in each other's arms.


End file.
